


left behind

by mermaidhanji



Series: old soldiers, old love [1]
Category: Overwatch (Video Game)
Genre: Angst, Death, Depression, Fall of Overwatch, Multi, Overwatch Family, Polyamory, Post-Legacy (Overwatch)
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2018-02-05
Updated: 2018-02-14
Packaged: 2019-03-14 00:00:51
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 2
Words: 1,804
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/13581735
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/mermaidhanji/pseuds/mermaidhanji
Summary: Jack returned from the mission. Ana didn't.





	1. legacy

**Author's Note:**

> GOD i finally finished this. and i have more coming :3c
> 
> i love this polyam trio and their overwatch family so fuckin much please talk 2 me about them. i love the reaperana76. im dying
> 
> didn't tag with major character death cause like they're not REALLY dead but. this part takes place right after ana's legacy comic.

“It’s not true.”

Dread weighed on Jack as Gabriel swept into the empty debriefing room. He didn’t look up from the table’s screen—he couldn’t. There was a tremble beneath Gabriel’s terse denial that Jack was too cowardly to face. _Can’t even own up to your own mistake,_ he thought; _and this one cost you._ Instead, he stared at the flickering mission statement before him, hoping against hope that maybe the words would change. Maybe she’d walk in behind Gabe, her field uniform still dusty, and laugh her throaty laugh. _“How sweet of you two to worry. You must like me,”_ She’d say, and her smile would turn soft. _“Don’t you both know by now I’ll always come home safe?”_

But the room stayed dead, the words remained unchanged, and there was a yawning hole in Jack’s chest that kept growing.

“Jack, answer me.” Gabriel’s tone was hard. “The statement has to be wrong.” The first words they’d exchanged in weeks, and it was... this. Like something out of a foggy nightmare. But there was a painful lump in Jack’s throat, and he kept a white-knuckled grip on the edge of the table, and he knew it was real. “You wouldn’t leave Ana behind. Even after everything, you wouldn’t do that.”

That hurt like a knife in the ribs. He managed to look up and meet Gabriel’s gaze _(you owe that much to him, to her)._ The clench of Gabe’s jaw and fists did nothing to mask his terror from Jack; it was in his eyes, just beneath the surface. “Where’s Ana?” Gabriel pressed. Jack tried to swallow, and he sounded like a dying man when he croaked out:

“Gone.”

Ana was gone. Ana was dead, and it was his fault.

Gabriel visibly trembled. “But no body was recovered,” he continued, albeit shakily, and Jack nodded. The thought of just _a body_ instead of _Ana_ made Jack’s stomach churn. “So she could still be out there. She could need our help.”

“Gabe—“

“We need to get her, Jack. _Now.”_

 _We._ Jack hadn’t heard that in a while. He wanted to take that _we_ and run with it, run with Gabe, run to Ana. “Can’t,” he had to say instead. It came out as a murmur, like he was ashamed of it (he was). “We wouldn’t be authorized. The place is still crawling with Talon operatives; we’d be risking more lives by going back...”

He faltered at the look on Gabriel’s face, wide-open shock like he hadn’t seen in years. “You’re shitting me,” Gabe muttered, and his disbelief gave way to a now familiar glare. “Since when did permissions matter more than Ana’s life?”

The sting of that made Jack stiffen. “We’ve already been under too much heat, you know that,” he ground out. It was an argument as familiar as a dance at this point; maybe once, he would have been stunned it pushed past the screaming in his heart. But bitterness (and pride) was a hell of a thing.

“Blackwatch could be in and out before anyone catches wind. A small, stealthy team—“

 _“No,”_ Jack asserted, “Blackwatch is still suspended, and we already crossed a line in King’s Row, even if it turned out well.”

“’Turned out well’? We saved lives!” Gabriel’s voice rose. “We could be saving Ana’s life too, if you weren’t sitting here on your ass moaning about politics!”

“Don’t you think I want to?” Jack snapped, “And even if we could, I—“ he stopped short at the sudden twist in his chest. “I don’t think there’s anything left to bring back,” he finished, quieter again.

“Bullshit.” Gabriel’s voice wavered, and Jack winced. _That’s your fault, too,_ his conscious reminded him. “This is Ana Amari. She’s a survivor,” Gabriel insisted, but it was unsteady. “This is _Ana.”_ The weight of her name was like a thousand dead bodies.

“You weren’t there,” Jack murmured, wrapping his arms around his midsection. “You didn’t hear her scream.” Gabriel took a sharp breath, and leaned heavily with his palms on the table. Jack had barely heard it himself over the thrum of the evac shuttle, but he would recognize her voice anywhere—and he couldn’t begin to think of her chuckles or triumphant shouts without that distant, agonized cry tearing him apart. “She’s gone. We’re not going back.”

“Then you’re leaving her to die?”

“We always knew this could happen.” And it was true; they all knew that from day one. Over twenty years ago, it was the unspoken thought behind every hesitation: what if this mission was it? What if this would be the last kiss, the last time their eyes met? Jack thought he could handle that day if it ever came. _What a fucking fool,_ he thought to himself.

“But it happened on _your_ watch.” It was venomous, and anguished, and Jack couldn’t tell which hurt worse.

“She disobeyed a direct order to fall back,” Jack said, and regretted it as soon as the words left him. His eyes widened in horror, and there was revulsion in every line on Gabriel’s face. “Shit, I—“

“That’s not an _excuse!”_ Gabe cried, almost shrilly.

“I know it’s not!” Jack shouted, “I—“

“For God’s sake, Jack, _listen_ to yourself!” Gabriel’s contempt—and grief—was palpable, like suffocation. A thread of war strung tight between them, threatening to snap when Gabe continued: “What _happened_ to you?”

The thread slackened as Jack deflated. _I don’t know,_ he thought, but it was an unworthy half-answer.

Gabriel stared, expectant—desperate, maybe. But Jack didn’t speak, and Gabriel looked away. For some reason, it struck a blow to him.

The desolate silence was their only companion now. Gabe’s eyes fell to the mission statement once more, but Jack couldn’t bear to look again. He knew every word by now, they were burned into him: _Cpt. Amari, Ana, presumed dead._ It buried him like the grave.

Gabriel blinked rapidly, his lip quivered... and his face crumpled, the force of his despair bringing him to his knees. Stricken, Jack could do nothing but watch as he fell apart.

“Ana.” Gabriel’s voice broke on her name, and Jack’s heart broke with it. Tears sprang forth and streamed down his face now, unbidden, but Jack clamped down the wail that threatened to break loose. He had no place crying out for her, he thought; hunched over, teeth clenched so hard they creaked. Jack could only stare down, unseeing, while Gabriel sobbed and sobbed. Through the blur of tears, he saw those words again, saw her photo, saw their lives together and the cracks deepened—and shattered. Jack heaved like there were hands around his throat, collapsing to the table, held up only by his elbows, but they quaked, quaked further when Gabriel slammed a palm to the surface and screamed in anguish. They bawled alone, separated by the mission statement between them, and by the sterile, professional, neutral photo on Ana’s profile. The weak mirror of her stared with blank eyes—with dead eyes.

“Oh god,” Gabe rattled suddenly, brutal realization seeping into his ruin: “Fareeha.”

Jack felt sick, and his blood ran cold. In all his years—in the decades since he fought his first battle, called his first shot—he had never felt more helpless than now.

“And Jesse,” Gabriel continued frantically, “Angela—“

“They’re not kids anymore, Gabe.” Distantly, he couldn’t believe that wrecked voice belonged to him. “They’ll be okay.” The words felt about as hollow as he did.

“They still lost a mother today.” It was murmured with a bitterness like poison, and it was true.

The air stilled, and emptied, leaving nothing between them but jagged edges. Numb, Jack just let the tears drip from his nose to the table, let his bones tremor in the wake of such destruction.

He could hear the soft, slow movement of Gabriel rising to stand. Jack swallowed, gathered the will to look up—and was run through by Gabriel’s red-rimmed glare. Agony, horror, and loneliness clawed at him. In times past, they would have wept together (they would have had no reason to weep; he wouldn’t have left Ana behind). Now... lovers were facing off like enemies. _What happened to us?_

“Overwatch was supposed to help people. Overwatch was supposed to protect people.” Gabriel was raw as an open wound. “What is it doing, if it couldn’t even protect her?”

Jack should have jumped to Overwatch’s defence—he always did. But exhaustion bore down on him, like he saw in Ana just hours ago, though it felt a lifetime away. _“Are you okay?”_ he had whispered en route to the drop point. Ana didn’t look at him. _“I’m tired, Jack,”_ was her only reply.

 _I’m tired, too,_ he thought as Gabriel turned away.

Jack turned as well, while the door slid shut.


	2. months later

_“... completely destroyed. The number of casualties is expected to rise...”_

The flickering screen bathed the room in a blue glow. Its light was piercing in the darkness, and she really should turn the lamp on—no need to strain the eye she had left—but she couldn’t find the will. She couldn’t find the will for much of anything, these days.

_“... at the center of the blast. What the Commanders were doing, and what caused the explosion, remains uncertain. Both Strike Commander Morrison and Commander Reyes are presumed dead.”_

Ana didn’t move. Even though the hard mattress dug into her side, even though the blanket didn’t warm her chills, she was still as the dead—she _was_ dead. The breaking news report played quietly, and she knew it was spreading across the world like wildfire. People would be shaken; people would be mourning. Her _family_ would be mourning.

Something clenched horribly in her heart, and she curled in on herself. Maybe she could disappear.

The broadcast faded into the background, and all she could hear was the echo in her ears: _Strike Commander Morrison and Commander Reyes are presumed dead._

_Dead._

Ana found tears on her face and a tremble in her hands. She knotted her fingers together, holding them close, and let her tears wet the pillow.

But they didn’t know Jack and Gabriel. They didn’t know the men she loved. They didn’t know the men she left behind.

Ana smiled: minuscule, hollow, knowing, and full of pain. They wouldn’t die that easily. Not like her. She laid willingly in her grave; it was better for everyone. But Jack wouldn’t know how to die, and Gabriel would crawl out if it was the last thing he did.

An endless stream of tears spilled, and that smile quivered. She could sing, as she knew in her wretched heart they lived. But when could they rest?

When could they all rest?

Her eye closed. The murmur of a thousand voices drifted around Ana as she wept in joy and sorrow.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> anyone wanted some heartbreaking rana76 this valentimes gay cause im here to deliver
> 
> sorry this took long considering how short it is lol but that's this fic done, but i have like at least 3 more planned in this series cause i fucking love this polyam and i have many Ideas. also if u liked this u may also like my [sad reaperana76 fanmix](http://thedreadgay.tumblr.com/post/170889937624/youre-jaded-a-gabrielanajack-fanmix-8tracks) too cause i cannot stop crankin out the content apparently
> 
> catch y'all later \m/


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